


The Photograph

by LittleMissSyreid



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cuddling, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Jealous Steve, Protective Steve, Reader-Insert, Romantic Fluff, Sick Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 02:43:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4590027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissSyreid/pseuds/LittleMissSyreid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Steve are having a movie night. It ends with the pair of you falling asleep on the sofa together. Chaos thusly ensues when Tony and Natasha find you together in what can only be described as an intimate position.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Can you do a oneshot were Steve and you are watching a movie together and fall asleep on the couch and the avengers (Tony and Nat!?) find you in the morning (cuddled up) and think it´s really sweet and taking a picture. When you and Steve see the photo you admit you like each other. Really fluffy. <3

“Well that film absolutely sucked.” Steve snorted as the credits began to roll. Kicking the blanket away with your feet, you heaved your legs off of his lap. The minute you did so, your calves missed the gentle touch of his hands which he had been resting atop the blanket. 

“It wasn’t that bad, was it?” You giggled as you approached the DVD player.  
“Yes, (y/n), it was. Frankly, the plot was predictable and the relationship between Reed and Susan was stale.” You rolled your eyes as the device spit the DVD tray back out, almost as if it was rejecting your “The Fantastic Four” DVD. You still didn’t understand why it was so disliked – you thought it was quite an enjoyable film.  
“Oh, what would you know about  _love_  and all that jazz?” You laughed. You didn’t notice the way his eyes stared longingly at you in silent response to your question. Eventually, he was forced to say something else.  
“Don’t even get me started on the actor who played the fire guy – what was his name? Johnny Storm? He was awful.” 

“Well alright then, you can pick the next DVD if you like.” You replied. Having returned the disc to its case, you gestured to the small selection of films you had extracted from your ever-growing collection.  
“(Y/n), it’s nearly midnight.” Steve pointed out with a smile that suggested he didn’t really care.  
“I didn’t say we’d watch all of it… Even if we fall asleep here, I’m not letting up until you have watched a film you don’t complain after.”  
Steve’s eyes pored over the films you had piled up on the coffee table in front of him – nothing really jumped out.  
“Oh, I don’t know, why don’t you just choose?” He asked rhetorically.  
“Because every time I do, I get a bloody monologue afterwards telling me why it’s such a crap film. Now pick something so I can’t be held responsible.” You demanded. Steve smirked at the authority that you were showing.  
“Fine. That one.” He said, jutting out his index finger at a box halfway down the pile. Following the direction in which he was pointing, you saw the faces of Gary Sinise and John Malkovich looking back at you.

Of Mice and Men.

“Good choice.” You said before dealing with the disc. As the DVD whirred into action, you picked up the remote and returned to your position on the sofa, draping the thick blanket over your legs. Steve turned to you.  
“What are you doing?”  
“Well, when people place their asses on a surface and stay there it’s usually referred to as ‘sitting down’. Didn’t realise that was such a novelty in the 40s.” You muttered whilst adjusting the blanket. After playfully hitting you as punishment for your sarcasm, Steve explained.  
“No shit Sherlock. I meant that you’ve moved further away.” He sighed. Without realising, you had indeed sat next on the seat next to him as opposed to how you’d initially sat – with your legs across his lap which he fondly stroked. He held up his arm so that you could crawl next to him and you obliged.

“I’ve read the book and I know how this ends – if it’s as sad as I remember then I’m going to need you here to comfort me.” He smiled wistfully.  
“This coming from the man who fought Nazis-OW!” You yelped. Steve had pinched you in the rib to stop you being sarcastic.  
“Bravery has nothing to do with sentimentality…” He chuckled. With your arms wrapped around his torso and your head on his chest, it was difficult for you to look up at him though it didn’t stop you from trying.  
“Wow, that’s actually, surprisingly deep, Steve.” You giggled.   
“I do have a brain, you know.”   
“Really? Well, let me know if you ever fancy using it.”

Pinch.

* * *

Tony and Natasha walked into the living area of Stark Tower just as the sun peeked out from beneath the horizon. Both were fairly early-risers for no reason other than it was their usual habit to be awake. Thor sometimes accompanied them but that was only when he’d had an excessive sugary-snacking session resulting in him being unable to sleep. Two thunderstorms and a smashed window later and the Avengers had become particularly practiced at hiding the sweeter treats.

Which is why the pair were surprised to find they were not the only ones out of bed. As they walked through the corridor together, they were in deep conversation. Natasha only just noticed the foot dangling over the edge of the sofa.   
“Tony…” She murmured.   
“I  _know_! So that’s why I told him-”  
“Tony.” Natasha sung.  
“Yeah, let me finish, I said-”  
“Tony Stark! If you could act like you have eyes in that thick skull of yours for two minutes, I would very much appreciate it.” She hissed. Taken aback by the sharp words, Tony paused in his tracks and turned to face his friend. She gestured to the sofa by glancing to it subtly. Spinning around, Tony’s eyes also fell onto the bare foot that was hanging over the edge of the sofa. 

“Is it bad that I know exactly whose foot that is?” Tony smirked.  
“A little.” Natasha smiled her pouty little smile as she surpassed him to confirm her suspicions. Tony remained stationary, awaiting her observations.  
“O-ho!” Tony was surprised to hear Natasha’s soft exclamation of surprise. He raised his eyebrows questioningly but the assassin did not respond. Instead she beckoned with a slim finger. Curiosity bubbled within Stark and carefully, so as not to disturb whatever image might be awaiting him, crept towards her. Upon reaching the sofa on which Steve lay, he noticed that the soldier was not alone. Curled up in his embrace – like a little rabbit, Tony couldn’t help but think – was (y/n). Her head was tucked sweetly into the crook of Steve’s neck and her arms were folded against her chest. Her legs were also curled up so that she was in a more relaxed version of the foetal position. Steve’s broad arms were wrapped around his “friend” so that he was holding her body against him by the small of her back. A green cotton blanket was draped loosely around them.

“I will give you $1000 right now to help me swap with Steve.” Tony said, eyes eager for the chance to both flirt shamelessly and fluster (y/n).  
“I’m going to hit you in a minute.” Natasha quietly giggled. Expertly, she slid the smart phone from her breast pocket and unlocked it with a quick flick of her finger. A few taps later and the camera was open, silently observing the sleeping couple.  
“Okay. I changed my offer. I’ll give you $2000 to let me take that picture.” Tony pleaded, practically falling to his knees. Rolling her eyes, Natasha chucked him the phone.  
“Jesus Stark, I don’t care. Just take it.” She muttered. 

Three photos later and Tony was satisfied. He’d even dangerously knelt close to you and Cap to get a picture of your faces, peacefully snoozing together. Then Natasha had carried you back to your bedroom without stirring you (despite Tony’s million dollar offers to be allowed to do so himself).   
“Morning sleepy head.” Natasha said as you pulled your eyelids apart. You slurred something in response that vaguely resembled the words “good” and “morning”. Natasha was sat on the covers next to you, flicking aimlessly through an old magazine you’d stored in your bedside cabinet.

“How did I get in here? I was in the sitting room.”  
“Carried you myself. Figured that you would probably prefer to catch any extra shut-eye in a bed rather than…” Natasha bit her lip to hide a smile. “…than on a sofa.”   
You eyed her suspiciously but, too tired to try and make any deductions, decided to ignore it. Rubbing your eyes, you thought about the things you needed to do before the day could begin. Now would probably be a good time to check your phone – having planned to go jogging with Steve later, you wanted to check the weather. 

“Nat, can I borrow your phone? Mine must be in the other room – not that it’ll have any charge left, mind you.” You rambled. Now engrossed in a particular magazine article about tending a window garden, Natasha thoughtlessly passed her phone across. As you pressed buttons to wake the screen, the assassin had a sudden thought and quickly turned to you:  
“Oh wait, can I just-” Your face had dropped and you turned Nat’s lock screen to face her. You were definitely awake now.

Natasha’s lock screen was a photo of you curled up in Steve Rogers’ arms.

You were blushing profusely and turned your face down to hide it. Nat smirked a little at your reaction before guiltily taking back her phone. She stood up and adjusted her shirt and top, her previous seating position having disrupted them.  
“How many people have seen that?” You whispered. To anyone else, it would have been inaudible but Natasha’s hearing was unparalleled.   
“Just me and Tony.”  
You groaned and thrust your face into the pillow. Tony. Of all people.  
“Relax, he’s not gonna tell anyone about your crush on Rogers.” She rolled her eyes and laughed, only stopping when you look up with wide eyes.  
“Who said I have a crush on Rogers?” You spluttered.  
“Oh come  _on_ , (y/n). You’d have to be an idiot not to notice it what with all the time you spend together.” Natasha laughed. As she was halfway out of the door, she turned to face you and said with a wink:  
“Luckily, Steve is a very beautiful idiot.” 

You plunged your face back into the pillow.

* * *

Steve sipped coffee at the bar. Tony was having some form of alcohol that Steve didn’t recognise.   
“How’d you sleep?” Steve asked with a gruff voice, hoping to make some polite conversation to pass the time. He hadn’t been awake long and his neck was killing him.  
“A far lot better than you by the looks of it. Hell of a night on that sofa, I imagine.” Tony said over the rim of his glass.  
“Mm. (Y/n) were having a movie night and I fell asleep. I guess she took herself to bed.” He said, taking another sip of coffee. As a result, he missed Tony’s suggestive facial expression – raised eyebrows, low eyes and a famous Stark patented smirk that curled across his lips like a cat’s tail.  
“So nothing…  _else_ … happened then?” He asked with a bitter sweet innocence that reeked of innuendo.  
“Like what?”   
“Oh come on Rogers. Even you should get that – no wink-wink, nudge-nudge?” Stark’s smirk evolved into something reminiscent of a full-blown grin. Steve choked on his mouth of coffee.  
“I should think not!” He eventually coughed after using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away the drops of coffee from his chin and nose. Whilst waiting for Steve to finish clearing up, Tony pulled his phone out of his pocket to see that the preview of a text from Natasha…

“We… are just friends.” Steve eventually murmured, running his finger around the edge of the cup to pick up any stray liquid. Stark rolled his eyes and sighed.  
“Oh please. We’ve all noticed. I could cut the sexual tension in the room with a knife when you two are in there.”  
“Stark. Please stop. She doesn’t see it like that.” Steve mumbled eliciting a curious glance from Tony.  
“But do you?” He asked. He seemed a little distracted and brought his hand to his ear, presumably to scratch an itch, Steve thought.

“I…” Steve dropped his head a little and sighed. “I would kill to have someone even remotely like (y/n) loving me but… we have something good now and I refuse to jeopardise it.” Steve breathed. Tony sighed with relief and smiled. The Captain raised his eyes.  
“What?” He asked. The response he got was startling. Tony looked up to the ceiling and shouted:  
“Hey J.A.R.V.I.S., did you catch that?” Apparently he hadn’t been scratching an itch at all.  
“Yes sir, I did.” The melodious voice responded. Steve suddenly realised what was happening and placed his coffee down.  
“Stark, don’t you-”

“Do me a favour J.A.R.V.I.S. and play that back a couple o’ times in whatever room Miss (y/l/n) is in.”  
“Of course, sir.”  
Steve had fled the room before Tony could even begin to chuckle. As he brought his phone out of his pocket, he glanced amusedly at the text which read:  
 _“(Y/n) saw the pic but won’t admit the obvious. Jfc.”_

You and Thor looked up as the recording ended. Both of you shared a look of confusion before J.A.R.V.I.S. interrupted:  
“I must apologise Miss (Y/l/n) but I have been instructed to play this twice.” He then proceeded to do so. You and Thor had been chatting idly over a morning cup of tea (which you both preferred over coffee) when the recording began to play out of the blue. Now you could feel yourself blushing profusely as you were forced to sit through it for a second time.

Thor was looking at you suggestively from behind his mug, his long blonde locks failing to hide his raised brow.  
“Don’t start.” You snapped, kicking him playfully under the table. He chuckled heartily until Steve ran into the room looking breathless. He held onto the left doorframe anxiously, his chest rising and falling dramatically.  
“Please – God – tell me there was a slight chance that you didn’t just hear that.” He panted. Thor abruptly burst into his deep laughter. Standing up, he placed the cup down on the counter next to where you had hidden your face in your arms upon seeing Steve. As he exited the room, he patted Cap sympathetically on the shoulder.  
“Not a chance in hell, friend.” Thor laughed again before leaving.

Steve sighed and his head drooped. He looked at you - flopped over the counter with your face buried in your arms – and smiled to himself. You were probably feeling the same way as him and, in an odd way, that was reassuring. Slowly, he stepped forward and took Thor’s place across the table from you. Before he could say anything, you let out a long, muffled groan. Steve chuckled silently and looked down at his hands in his lap.  
“I’m sorry…” He whispered and you laughed aloud though it was again muffled by your arms. You lifted your head and let your chin rest on your folded arms. Steve mirrored your actions and slumped. Crossing his arms, he placed them on top of the counter and let his jaw fall on top of them. Your noses were practically an inch away from each other.   
“Nah, don’t be sorry.” You eventually mumbled. Steve blinked slowly, allowing himself to become completely lost in your forgiving and beautiful eyes. After a while, you realised that he seemed perfectly content in pretending this never happened and you couldn’t tell how you felt about that. You  _should_  have been happy that the awkward situation would be swept under the rug but at the same time, part of you had wondered whether it would mean losing the perfect opportunity to tell Steve how you feel… 

Yawning, you sat up and stretched. Steve felt a little dazed after being so quickly ripped from the eyes he was swimming in. However, he eventually recovered and sat up. Steve knew that if he didn’t ask now, he probably never would. Apparently, you were considering ignoring the situation that had occurred, despite the perfect opportunity it gave you both to discuss how he was obviously feeling. Suddenly, an idea presented itself and Steve leapt on the opportunity. 

“So uh, how did that film end?” He asked.  
“I thought you’d read the book.” You replied coolly, picking up the two mugs and making your way to the sink where you dropped them. Steve swivelled the bar stool so that you remained in his sights.  
“Well, yeah sure, but with these film adaptations nowadays, you can’t be sure what they’ll change.” He argued with a pointed and charismatic finger.  
“Alright then. We can carry on watching it tonight if you want.”  
“I’d like that a lot.” He smiled.

“How about I take you out for dinner first?” He then asked abruptly. You blinked at the unexpectedness of the question.   
“Unless you’d rather eat in.” He began to panic when you didn’t respond. “We could get takeaway or I could cook or…”   
“No, no!” You blurted out.  
“Dinner sounds nice.” You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and cast your eyes down. It was the most modest Steve had ever seen you – normally you were sarcastic and playful. It was one of the things he loved about you but at the same time, he knew that he was going to adore learning about this modest side of you too.

‘ _Yes_ ,’ Steve thought ‘ _This is right_.’


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Thank you so much for writing my request again 

“Nat!” You cried out.  
“NAT!”  
As a result of you pounding your fists against the door to her sleeping quarters, you almost gave Natasha a black eye when she finally opened the door. Luckily, her cat-like reflexes caught your hand in her own when she opened the door.  
“What?” She hissed. Apparently, she had been napping – not an activity you thought that a highly skilled assassin would partake in though it did fit in nicely with the cat metaphor.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to disturb…” You mumbled apologetically as she let your hand go. Natasha sighed.  
“Never mind. What is it?” She asked folding her arms and crinkling the large striped hoodie that she was wearing over leggings.  
“I need help.”  
“What else is new?” She smirked and you nudged her playfully.  
“I need specific help – I have a date.” Nat’s eyes got wide.   
“With…?” She suggested and you smiled nervously, wringing your hands together. Natasha gasped and held her hand over her heart before pulling you inside her room. 

Several hours later and Natasha had “dolled you up” (as she’d put it). Frankly, you hadn’t wanted to go all out for this – Steve either took you as you were or not at all – but your friend had insisted. You now stood in a red floral dress reminiscent of the 1940’s but modernised with a denim jacket. Underneath you wore tights and a pair of black heels that were frightfully uncomfortable. However as you looked in the mirror, you had to admit that, when combined with the subtle dark make-up that Natasha had painted around your (y/e/c) eyes, you looked pretty damn fine.

A soft knock came on Natasha’s door.  
“Nat, have you seen (y/n)? We have… uh, plans… and she’s not in her room.” Steve’s voice said from the other side of the door, obviously not intending to reveal the nature of your plans. The assassin placed her hands under your arms and placed you in front of her door. She then hid herself behind the door whilst opening it melodramatically.

“Mr Rogers, meet (y/n). Your date for the evening.” She snickered from the other side of the doorway.  
Steve was leaning against doorway holding a single rose. When he saw you, he stood up and corrected himself, adjusting the tie that was around his neck. He was wearing a white shirt and tie with a black blazer and trousers. Steve broke into a beam when he saw you and stepped into the room, completely blanking Nat who came out from behind the door.

“You look…” He began, taking your hand and spinning you around. Your hair had been styled but luckily his actions weren’t enough to disrupt anything.  
“I’m not sure I have the words.” He laughed softly. You stopped spinning and looked up at him with a small grin. He reminded himself that he was going to have to adjust to this newer, more modest version of you.

“Thanks. You’re looking pretty dapper yourself.” You said, no hint of the nervousness you were feeling in your voice. Natasha rolled her eyes.  
“Good God. If you’re going to spend the whole night undressing each other with your eyes, at least do it in somebody else’s bedroom.” Steve blinked and shook his head abruptly. You giggled.  
“Right. Yes. Sorry.” He said but then suddenly corrected himself.  
“No, wait, no, I wasn’t… Undressing- no! I mean-” Natasha had pushed you both out of the doorway before he could finish his protests.

* * *

The meal was sinfully boring. You had never been one for restaurants – the atmosphere created in there was much too sociable for your liking and detracted from any intimacy you might have. When you left the restaurant, rain hammered against the tops of cars and rooves of buildings. Steve apparently was aware of how awful everything seemed.   
“This literally could not be going any worse.” He mumbled to himself, looking out at the weather and coming to the horrifying conclusion that he hadn’t brought an umbrella. 

“Well? What next? Back to Stark Tower?” You asked, giving Steve the warmest smile you could muster.  
“I suppose… but I should apologise first. This has been an awful date.” He said, full of the chivalry, manners and courtesy that was the norm with him. Looking down at the floor, you smiled.  
“Yeah. It really has.”   
Steve frowned and kicked the pavement sulkily.   
“But…” You continued. “It’s not over yet. We still have the movie to go back to and we get to walk home together.”   
“It’s tipping it down (y/n)!” He insisted, having to raise his voice as a car sped past and splashed water near to where you stood.  
“So?” You laughed. 

Taking Steve’s hand, you pulled him off of the path and crossed the road. The rain pattered against your skin and ran down your neck. You could feel how apprehensive Steve was as he tried to pull you back under the shelter, insisting all the while that he could hail a taxi.  
“Don’t you dare!” You shouted back over the sound of the rain hitting the ground. After a little more pulling, Steve finally caved and the pair of you began to run through the rain together, laughing and giggling like schoolchildren. At one point, you had a water fight using a puddle that had collected on the corner. By the time you reached Stark Tower, both of you were heavily drenched.

Squelching through the corridors, you could feel your clothes sticking to you and your hair was matted against your hair. The mascara and eye shadow was running down your red face and, as you turned to Steve, you could see he looked practically the same save for the smudged makeup. Both of you were panting heavily from your sprinting session but neither of you had ever felt better. It was then you realised that enjoying time with Steve didn’t mean you had to follow the dating protocols set by everybody else. So long as you were together, you could do whatever you wanted to.

“I think…” He panted eventually. “I might want to take a shower.”  
“I second that.” You laughed, wiping the mascara off of your cheeks.   
“Give me an hour and I’ll meet you in front of the television so we can finish that film.” He smiled. You’d almost forgotten about the original premise of the date. Nodding, you began to leave when Steve took your wrist. He turned you around with it and planted a small kiss on your cheek. He then walked away, leaving you stunned and gently running your fingers over where his lips had brushed your cheek.

Steve finished getting ready a little sooner than he’d anticipated so he set up the DVD and paused it in the right place, made two cups of hot chocolate, and gathered all the pillows and blankets that he could find onto the sofa. He spent so much time fretting over everything that he didn’t hear you pad softly into the room. Instead, he was stood looking around with his hand on the back of his neck, seemingly checking that everything was perfect. Silently, you crept up behind him and wrapped your arms around him from behind.

After adjusting to the surprise, he turned around and similarly wrapped his arms around your shoulders.   
“Hello.” He said warmly.   
“Hi.” You felt him press his lips to the top of your head – judging by the colour that painted your cheeks, it was going to take a while to get used to Steve kissing you. He took your hands and led you towards the sofa where the most formidable-looking pillow fort awaited you.

“Nice job Soldier.” You chuckled. Moving some of the pillows aside, Steve sat down on the sofa and pulled you onto his lap. You then pulled a blanket around your shoulders and curled your legs up. Steve grabbed a few more pillows and surrounded you both with them. Eventually you were quite suitably caved in with blankets and pillows.   
“Steve…” You said to him. He looked at you with adoring eyes.  
“Yes?”  
“Please tell me you picked up the remote for the DVD player…”

* * *

“Tony…” A voice said. Tony grumbled in his sleep. He was having the most wonderful dream about a tropical island with beautiful weather, white sand and-  
“Tony…” The voice hissed again and Tony stirred, reaching out for the snooze button on his alarm clock. Natasha swatted his hand away.  
“Stark!” She whispered a little louder and pinched him.   
“Ow!” Tony shouted but Natasha placed her hand over his mouth before he could scream any more.  
“Get up, rock head.” She laughed a little and stood up herself, removing her hand. 

As he crawled out from under the bed covers, his eyes adjusted to the fiery-haired assassin. She had messy hair having apparently only just woken and was dressed in a large shirt and shorts.   
“Well, well. Finally come to get some action have we Romanoff?” He said with a smirk, eyes glittering among the dark room. Natasha raised her eyebrows. However, then she suddenly began to approach Stark slowly whilst swaying her hips. Tony was taken aback when she placed her hands on his cheeks – his hands naturally moving to her waist. Then Natasha’s right hand twisted and covered his mouth. Confused but equally curious, Tony waited to see what she would do next. Natasha let her leg bend and slide between Tony’s legs and he became intrigued. He took the opportunity to kiss the inside of her hand. 

That was until Natasha kneed him in the groin.

Her hand had purely been to muffle the noise.  
“Why on earth would I come to get “some action”? Honestly Stark you’re an idiot.” She muttered as Tony wiped the tears from his eyes.  
“That was cruel Romanoff…” He growled. Natasha tutted and made her way to the exit of his room.  
“Come on. Don’t make me regret coming to get you at all.”   
“What time is it?” He eventually grumbled.   
“Irrelevant.” She replied, opening the door.   
“Natasha…” He looked over at the digital alarm clock beside his bed. 5:02. In the morning.  
“Romanoff!” Tony hissed, following her out of the door.

“This had better be good.” He said, as they walked down the corridor.   
“Let’s just say when I got up for a midnight snack, this was not what I was expecting to see.” She whispered. When they walked into the room, Tony immediately saw what she was talking about. Pillows spilled off of the end of the sofa and onto the floor and the end of a large blanket could also be seen covering two pairs of feet.  
“No…” He said, breaking into a smug grin.  
“They wouldn’t do it again, would they?” He said in a hushed tone that barely disguised his excitement.

Walking round they saw that indeed, the couple had fallen asleep in each other’s arms once more. Steve held (y/n) a little more intimately than last time, his arms around the small of her back and holding her closely against him. (Y/n) had her arms around his neck and stroked his hair unconsciously in her sleep. Their legs were tangled slightly and their bodies were flush against each other.

As Tony took the photos, he said to Natasha in a hushed voice:  
“I know a place. If we leave now, we can have these on t-shirts by noon.”


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: I think everyone would agree to asking you to write a Part Three of Photograph. PLEASE. <3 :D

Natasha glared at Tony who was pleading with his chocolate puppy-dog eyes.   
“Come on Romanoff. Just picture the look on their faces.”  
“I am.” She replied. “Namely, Steve’s, and that’s why I’m refusing.”   
Natasha turned on her heel and began to strut away but Tony hurried in front of her, still holding the shirt in his hands. He was wearing the other top already and the picture of (y/n) and Steve’s faces was stretched a little over his torso.  
“Tony, no.” She said as though scolding a child, which, in her defence, she was.   
“Oh please!”  
“Why do you even want to? Everyone knows they’re dating after your broadcasted Steve’s confession through the tower.” Natasha folded her arms. Tony thought about his response.  
“If you wear it, I’ll tell them it was all my idea.” He wiggled his eyebrows.  
“It was all your idea.”   
“An idea that I wouldn’t have had if a certain red-haired assassin hadn’t woken me up…” He grinned. Natasha’s mouth parted slightly.

9 o’clock. Steve’s eyes reluctantly opened and it took a minute for him to adjust, he was always groggy in the mornings and no serum would change that. You stirred a little in his arms and he remembered the night you had spent together. An awful meal, running in the rain, watching a terrible film and then falling asleep in each other’s arms… Not to mention the pillow fort you were surrounded by. Steve smiled like an idiot. 

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to your neck. Your eyes fluttered open and examined the room – it looked as though a marshmallow had exploded. The warmth of Steve’s mouth against your neck caught your attention and you turned in his arms to face him.  
“Good morning.” He said softly. You felt the ends of your mouth turning up and placed a welcoming kiss on your boyfriend’s mouth. Suddenly, your cheeks flushed and your face felt hot – and not in the good way. Cocking his head, Steve looked at you concernedly, apparently noticing your expression of discomfort. He removed his hand from your back and pressed it against your head.

“You’re burning up.” He muttered. Before you  could protest, Steve had kicked away the blanket and picked you up in his arms. When he lifted you in the air, you realised how cold you felt and shivered.   
“I hate to say I told you so-”   
“No, you don’t.” You giggled before sniffling.  
“No, I don’t but you still shouldn’t have run through the rain like that.” He frowned. Steve placed you down on a bar stool and picked up the blanket from the floor. After wrapping it around you, he picked you up once more.  
“I can still walk.” You pointed out but Steve ignored you.  
“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should – which, I believe, is the reason you’re sick in the first place.” He laughed. 

“Which reminds me, why am I the only one whose sick?” You asked whilst being carried through the corridor. “I dragged you with me, you should be feeling as crappy as I do. It’s hardly fair.”  
“Super soldiers have an improved immune system, I guess.” His chest rumbled with laughter again. You continued to chat idly as he made his way for the elevator that would take you to your room. However when the doors slid open, the sight Steve saw caused him to drop you to the floor.   
You were just able to catch yourself in time and straighten your posture. You punched him in the shoulder, not thinking to ask why he’d dropped you until you saw what he had seen. Stood in the elevator were Natasha and Tony. On their shirts was the picture they had taken of you on Nat’s phone.

“You had it put on a shirt?!” You exclaimed. Steve turned to you, alarmed.  
“ _You’ve seen that photo before?_ ” He asked and you blushed, this time not as a result of your temperature. Tony cleared his throat.  
“Actually, this is a more recent photo.” He grinned smugly. Natasha’s head was in her hands and she was mumbling something that sounded like an apology repetitively. 

“Take off the shirt, Stark.” Steve said, the calm anger omnipresent in his voice. Of course Tony elected to ignore that, enjoying this riled up Steve far too much.  
“You know? I don’t think I will. Not until the rest of the gang has seen it at least – they might want to buy one!” He laughed at the thought. Steve audibly ground his teeth together.  
“Tony, please…” You asked.   
“Is she ok?” He asked in regards to your voice that had been reduced to a whisper as a result of your sore throat.   
“ _She_  is going to hit you in a minute.” You spat back.  
“Never mind. It would seem she is just as grouchy as usual.” Tony mumbled, strutting off down the corridor. You launched yourself at Tony and tried to scream abuse but it was too late – your voice was completely gone. It took both Natasha and Steve to hold you back as Tony walked down the hall, completely unaware.

“I’m so sorry.” Nat said after you had exhausted yourself and collapsed back into Steve’s arms. He helped you to stand and you were annoyed at yourself for allowing the sickness to affect you this badly.  
“It was all my fault. It started off just as a funny picture but as usual, Tony took it too far.” Natasha explained.  
“We have to get back at him somehow.” You croaked and Steve rubbed your back, both to comfort you but also to try and tell you it wasn’t worth it. Natasha, however, was looking pensive. 

“Well… I might have something.” Steve glared at her and either she hadn’t detected it or had chosen to ignore it. Your eyes lit up.  
“What is it?”   
“Let’s just say that I’ve used this trick on him recently and he got pretty annoyed at me then. Plus, if what you have is contagious then it could be twice as effective.” Steve tutted.  
“Nat, she’s sick. She should be resting.” But you scoffed.  
“Look at you! One date and already you’re playing the protective boyfriend role.” Sighing, Steve realised that he should have known a cold wouldn’t stop you from reverting to normal. Natasha took your hand and led you, stumbling, away from the elevator. After much deliberation, Cap decided that he’d be better help near you than anywhere else and promptly followed in your tracks.

* * *

Tony made his way back to the bedroom and flicked on the light. He’d had his fun in the t-shirt and had shown the rest of the team although they didn’t seem as impressed. Thor had thought it rude and insulting to the newly formed couple, Bruce had asked how you and Steve had felt about it and Clint thought it was childish, though he had initially laughed. Frankly, Tony’s prank had backfired and left him $20 poorer (not that he couldn’t afford it). He’d returned to his room to change.

So you can imagine his surprise when he turned around and saw you waiting for him.   
“Hey there.” You sniffled, your cold apparently having worsened.  
“Aren’t you sick? You should be in your own room.” He muttered, still bitter as a result of his failed joke.  
“Well, I wanted to come and ask you to get rid of that shirt.” You said, pulling the blanket draped around your shoulders a little tighter.  
“What if I don’t want to?” He chuckled, folding his arms. You stood up from where you had been sitting on his bed.

“I figured that you would say that… So I’m here to persuade you.” You muttered, stepping lightly towards him. Tony blinked. His better judgement told him that this was a trap and that he should be wary – but when had he ever listened to the tiny voice in his head?  
“Really? But what about you and Steve?”  
“Not exclusive yet. We’ve only had one date remember. It might not even get any further now – he’s really upset about this whole photograph business.” You sighed melodramatically. You’d reached Tony’s side by this point and were toying gently with the edges of his sleeves. The shirt didn’t fit him properly and so it was difficult to play with the material without accidentally brushing your fingers against his skin. 

From the closet, Steve could feel himself getting very agitated. Natasha peered out of the crack in the door, holding the camera steady and ready to strike whilst Steve was forced to watch on helplessly as you flirted shamelessly with the hormonal playboy.   
“Your girlfriend is quite the little actress.” Natasha whispered with a smirk. Steve grunted disapprovingly.

“So how about it? Feel like taking the shirt off?” You purred with a playful grin on your face. Despite your cold, you felt that you were successfully seducing the billionaire and made a mental note to try it on Steve when you weren’t so feverish. Tony smirked and slowly peeled the shirt off, tossing it towards the closet in which your friends were hiding.  
“I swear if he tries anything…” Steve growled but Natasha cut him off.  
“Then (y/n) will walk away – we’ve discussed this.” She reminded him. After a few minutes more of watching, they received the signal. Having talked Tony into shedding all but his underwear, you stepped aside and shouted:  
“NOW!” 

The assassin burst from the closet and snapped as many photos as she could before a startled Tony bolted from the room. You were leaning against the wall, practically crying with laughter and even Steve couldn’t stop a smile from creeping onto his face. A proud Natasha browsed through the photos she had taken on her phone and revelled in the confused and bewildered expressions of Tony Stark. 

“Oh… I have a great idea.” She muttered to herself. Nat turned and gave the pair of you a salute before dancing out of the room gleefully. Steve wrapped his arms around your shoulders as your laughing gradually turned into coughing. Slowly, he guided you to the bed and sat you down.  
“Come on, you. As fun as that was, you should be resting.” He smiled as he tucked you into the bed covers.  
“We could still get back at him, you know – right here on this bed!” You said with a sly grin.  
“That’s enough dirty talk madam.” He laughed before kissing your forehead.   
“Yes Captain.” You sighed, letting your tired eyes close.  
As Steve shut off the lights and left the room, he cast one last look back at you, curled up in Tony’s bed.  
‘ _God, I love that woman_.’ He thought as he closed the door. 

Two days later and you were healed of what turned out to be a mild cold. Tony however sat on the sofa in your place. He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and was surrounded by countless empty tissue boxes. His nose was sore and his eyes red from the countless coughing fits and sleepless nights. Entering the living area, you saw him watching a crappy made-for-TV movie and joined him on the sofa.  
“Alright there Briefs?” You chuckled, flopping onto the sofa. Tony let out an unimpressed grunt.  
“You can drop the nickname now.”   
“Not a chance.”

“It’s all your fault I’m sick, you know.” He muttered but you rolled your eyes.  
“Only because you made those shirts. You completely deserve it.” Tony’s narrow eyes returned to the TV. Clearly he had lost all the energy required to sass you – it was heart breaking.  
“But if you feel so awful, then I’ll make you something hot to eat.” You smiled and stood up, making for the kitchen island behind the sofa. At the same time, Nat walked into the room and nodded in greeting both to you and the sulking Tony.   
“I’m making Briefs some food.” Tony snorted angrily at the nickname. “Want anything?” Natasha shook her head.  
“I’m alright. Hey, if you’re making food, why don’t you use the new apron I got made?” She asked and you tilted your head curiously.

Natasha pulled the folded garment from her back pocket and shook it out. As a result Tony saw it before you did and he let out a horrified cry. Holding it up, you saw that the front of the apron had the photograph of Tony printed on it but his head had been removed in just the right place so that it would be replaced by the wearer.

You never finished making Tony any food. The pizza he had eventually ordered was delivered before you finished laughing. 


End file.
